Slaves of Elysium (15 page)

‘In fact, they thought I should be grateful to be in a civilised land at last. When I've told my master about life back home he sometimes looks shocked. Elysium might seem brutal to you, but they don't let people of any class go hungry or do without proper medical care. It's well run, it's clean and in most ways a lot safer than anywhere back home. I mean, I can go out in the city at any time of the day or night wearing nothing more than this without any worries. I get looked at of course, I'd be worried if I didn't, but I'd be perfectly safe.'

‘But you'd only be let out if you were running some errand for your master, I suppose,' Rebecca said scathingly. ‘I don't call that freedom.'

‘I know that,' Cath admitted. ‘I'm his property and he has a bill of sale to prove it. And at the beginning that was a hell of a thing for a good American girl to accept, believe me. But after a while I decided I could keep feeling miserable and sorry for myself or else I could learn to make the best of it. And gradually I found that some things I had thought were important weren't, and that a lot of the worries and pressures that were driving people crazy back home when I left just don't exist here. I'm not saying this is a better society than anything back home, but there's a chance you can find a place in it right for you.'

 

That evening, after the lights had dimmed, Jeni said, ‘Don't give up hope. He might still be alive.'

‘What?' Rebecca replied.

‘Mark Devereaux. If he was in the raft he could have drifted a long way. He might have landed somewhere to the north.'

‘Maybe. So what?'

‘I thought you loved him,' Jeni said.

‘Well you thought wrong. I liked him, we had fun together, that was all.'

‘Oh, I see.'

‘No, you don't see anything,' Rebecca said contemptuously. ‘I bet you think everybody should fall in love. You even think you'll find a master you can love. A pathetic romantic masochist, that's what you are.'

‘Don't you even care a little about Mark?'

‘No, stop talking about him.' Rebecca turned over on her bed with her back to Jeni, who mused in silence on Rebecca's angry reaction to what had seemed a normal enough question. Even allowing for Rebecca's self-centred nature, she had been sure Mark Devereaux was more to her than a mere friend or casual sex partner. So why deny it now?

Then it came to her.

Devereaux was responsible for entering the
Galatea
in the race to Nassau. And if they hadn't been in the race they would not have got caught in the storm and ended up here.

Rebecca blamed all her subsequent misfortunes on Devereaux. No wonder she would not acknowledge any affection she still felt for him.

 

Over the following days Jeni turned over what Cath had revealed about her own response to being enslaved.

Whether they were alive or dead, she could not expect Ash or Devereaux to suddenly appear from nowhere to save her, even assuming she wanted saving. She was on her own and apparently destined for a life of slavery. If her own nature, only so recently allowed to express itself openly, was any guide, then such a life might come naturally to her. But did she have the courage to swallow her pride as Cath suggested, along with any lingering inhibitions, and embrace it completely?

Even if she still hesitated to take that final step, out of pure self-interest it might be wise to appear to be a willing slave. Logically it would make her training easier, and after she was sold it made sense that her master would better treat a good slave, and allow such privileges as were permitted to her kind.

Right, she would be a good slave, and to be that she would have to understand Elysian culture. The language was the first barrier she would have to overcome, therefore she redoubled her efforts to become fluent in it as rapidly as possible.

She concentrated on Cath's lessons and worked diligently at what they jokingly called the ‘homework' she left them. If this land was to become her home, then she must understand and embrace it totally. And if slavery was her destiny, then there must be no barriers of understanding between her and whomsoever she was fated to serve.

Rebecca, however, was doing less well. Her slow progress was not for lack of intelligence or linguistic ability. Jeni knew she spoke French and Italian well, but she had learned them because it had been stylish and necessary for displaying a knowledge of good cuisine and fashion. She could not motivate herself to learn the language of people she hated. To her it was the tongue of slavers and their slaves, and she wanted nothing to do with it. The conditions of their imprisonment and the enforced exercise sessions she could not avoid, but there was no obvious compulsion for her to learn the language, especially from Cath, whom she clearly regarded with contempt for surrendering to slavery.

So it was that Rebecca's efforts were half-hearted at best, picking up odd words and phrases here and there but not working at increasing her vocabulary or learning the Elysian rules of grammar. Jeni suspected she only joined in on occasions as a relief from boredom. At other times she might ignore the lesson completely and simply lie on her bed staring at the ceiling. Jeni wondered if this was perhaps her way of defying their captors' will. Whatever the reason, after another week the gap between Rebecca's progress and Jeni's was very evident.

Then came the day when Rebecca could not give the Elysian names for half the common items Cath displayed on her screen, even after Jeni had named them all perfectly, and noting Rebecca's idle shrug at her failure caused Cath's patience to snap.

‘Look, I've been given the job of teaching you the language, and I'm doing it the best way I can,' she said angrily to Rebecca. ‘Jeni seems to be doing pretty well. What's your problem?'

‘I just don't want to learn this stupid language, that's all,' Rebecca replied. ‘Why should you care?'

‘Because I'll get punished if they think it's my fault, that's why. And so will you.'

Rebecca blinked. ‘What, for not being able to speak their language properly?'

‘Yes, you stupid bitch!' Cath fumed. ‘Things here aren't the same as back home. There we put up with immigrants not speaking much English, as long as they got by and provided cheap labour. But here even raw slaves are expected to be able to speak Elysian properly. It's the first step in showing you value the culture.'

‘Well I don't!' Rebecca retorted.

Jeni spoke up, trying to sound reasonable. ‘It makes sense to learn the language to help you understand more about Elysian society, and how to behave properly. If you want to make the best of things you should try. It'll be easier for you in the end.'

‘You would say that!' Rebecca snapped. ‘You've given up already. You enjoy learning their language because you want to be a perfect slave. You're only too ready to do whatever they want. Well unlike you I'm not a submissive slut. If they can't live with a slave who doesn't talk properly that's their problem!'

Jeni did not know what else she could say. Cath simply shrugged her shoulders. ‘If that's the way you want it, but don't be surprised at what happens. Some people have to learn the hard way, I guess.'

 

A week later Narvok Tem and another government official accompanied Cath to Jeni and Rebecca's cell, where the two men tested their progress in spoken Elysian. Jeni went first. She was nervous but soon relieved to find she understood almost everything they said to her, and was able to reply to their questions and obey simple instructions promptly. It was not yet fluency, but she had achieved a sound competence in the basic spoken language. When they were finished Jeni felt a flush of pride when she heard them compliment Cath on her work, and Cath said she was aided by the fact that Jeni was a willing and able student.

They were less pleased with Rebecca's progress.

She answered or not with a show of evident puzzlement as to what they were asking of her. When asked to perform simple tasks she got half of them wrong. Ordered to kneel before them in a show of respect, a command Jeni was sure she understood, Rebecca shrugged and folded her arms in a display of outright indifference just short of insolence. It was a calculated show of bluff. Jeni saw Rebecca's eyes were fastened on the controllers hanging from the men's belts, as though ready to comply if they made any move to use them. But they merely frowned and shook their heads, almost sadly.

The sudden suspicion came to Jeni that Rebecca might have deluded herself in thinking that if she appeared an inept and incompetent slave they would somehow give up on her. If that was her plan then Jeni wondered how she could be so stupid.

The men left, taking Cath with them. Jeni saw her flash one last look of disgust at Rebecca before the door closed behind them.

‘They thought they could order me about, did they?' Rebecca said triumphantly. ‘Now they know better. They won't make a slave out of Rebecca Lamont!'

‘You think you've won?' Jeni asked.

‘They didn't do anything, did they? We'll see who gets tired of this stupidity first. Maybe when they realise I'm no natural slave like you they'll start treating me better.' Her eyes flashed. ‘That's it! You've confused them with all that miserable servility. If I'd been able to stand up to them from the start I'd never have been put down here. Now they can see I'm better than you they'll change their minds.' Impatiently she fingered the seamless cuffs that encircled her wrists. ‘When they take these things off, then perhaps I'll learn their language.'

‘I don't think that's going to happen,' Jeni said, but Rebecca was lost in her own little fantasy and did not seem to hear her.

Jeni wondered if Rebecca had forgotten just how much the pain collars hurt when they were turned on, and how many means their captors had of enforcing their will. Perhaps she had subconsciously shut that unpleasant and embarrassing memory from her thoughts, aided by the fact that the collars and shock batons left no visible marks as a reminder of their efficacy.

Over the intervening days Rebecca had recovered her normal level of overbearing arrogance and self-confidence. Was it, ironically, because they had been treated too humanely? If they had been punished every day as a reminder, Rebecca would not have made such a mistake. And now, because their examiners had inflicted no immediate punishment, she seemed to think her show of defiance had succeeded. Jeni suspected she would be disappointed.

An hour later two guards entered the cell. They locked Jeni and Rebecca's cuffs behind them and fastened a bridle over Jeni's head, closing her mouth with its broad strap. Rebecca looked triumphant. They were not gagging her. She was being treated differently at last.

‘You're taking me to see somebody important, aren't you?' Rebecca asked the guards, then repeated her question in halting Elysian. They made no attempt to reply.

Together they were marched along to the exercise yard. A score of men and women in uniform and civilian dress were ringed around the room. The other female prisoners, all gagged like Jeni, were fastened to one wall, while three naked male prisoners were similarly secured against the opposite one. Jeni was led over to the females and secured beside them, her collar clicking against a wall plate.

This left Rebecca alone in the middle of the room with her guard, standing beside one of the exercise hoops. Some other pieces of apparatus Jeni had not seen before were laid out beside them. Rebecca apparently saw them as well and her eyes suddenly widened in fear as she realised how wrong she had been.

‘No, please don't do this,' she begged. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'll be good. I'll learn your language, I promise!'

But nobody took any notice. A senior officer stepped forward, and Jeni understood enough of what he said to fill in the gaps in her vocabulary.

‘Prisoner D574 is to be punished for disobedience and lack of respect to the ideals of Elysium,' he announced to the small crowd. ‘Let this be a lesson to prisoners and slaves alike.'

They positioned Rebecca inside one of the exercise hoops and activated her cuffs. The invisible forces pulled her arms and legs out straight into a starfish pose, lifting her feet off the floor so that she was suspended in the air. Even her collar was drawn upwards, pressing under her chin and forcing her neck straight and head upright.

Jeni saw Rebecca's fingers and toes wriggling as she strained against her bonds, but there was nothing she could do. She could only hang naked and helpless, her chest rising and falling tremulously, awaiting her punishment.

Two guards picked up the devices laid out by the hoop and positioned them in front and behind Rebecca. She twisted her head round, watching them with desperate eyes. ‘What are they? What are you doing with... oh no! Please don't...'

They were silver metal phalluses mounted on telescopic rods attached to swivel bearings, which rested on flat, heavy bases. The guards angled the rods so that they were pointing up at Rebecca's exposed and open groin, and then compressed the telescopic sections. Holding the base of a phallus with one hand, the guard in front knelt down and parted the lips of Rebecca's vagina with the other and slid the fat silver plug into her.